From His Lips/not Words Alone Pleased Her.

But Infinite In Pardon Is My Judge.

The Greatest Burden In The World Is Superstition, Not Only Of Ceremonies In The Church, But Of Imaginary And Scarecrow Sins At Home.

Sweet Is The Breath Of Morn, Her Rising Sweet, With Charm Of Earliest Birds.

Innumerable As The Stars Of Night, Or Stars Of Morning, Dewdrops Which The Sun Impearls On Every Leaf And Every Flower.

Which Way I Fly Is Hell; Myself Am Hell.